


No Plan

by to_one_thing_constant_never



Series: Wasteland, Baby! [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Hozier References, M/M, Religious Discussion, Title from a Hozier Song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24464791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/to_one_thing_constant_never/pseuds/to_one_thing_constant_never
Summary: Short and not-so-sweet discussion between Aziraphale and Crowley in the book shop one evening about God. Sometimes giving two celestial beings too much domestic time isn't a good thing.TW: Aziraphale has a mild panic attack.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Wasteland, Baby! [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664140
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	No Plan

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be honest with you folks, this is self-indulgent therapy for me.

No Plan

“How often do you talk to Her?” Crowley asked out of the blue. At the moment, he was resting his head on Aziraphale’s lap, using his husband as a living pillow as he was wont to do. The angel had been reading and drinking hot chocolate peacefully, enjoying comfortable silence with a demon who was drifting in and out of consciousness. Had been, anyway.

“Whom do you mean, dear?” Aziraphale asked, peering at him through his looks-only reading glasses. Crowley stared back up with a strange look in his eyes: Aziraphale couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad.

“God.”

Aziraphale realized he was wrong; Crowley wasn’t either/or, he was both. He let out a deep exhale. “What’s prompting you to ask?”

“Just answer the question!” Crowley snapped back, groaning in exasperation. Feeling Aziraphale’s legs tense under his back, he realized he had been a bit of a prick. “Sorry. I’m not…” He gave a weak swirling gesture near his head to indicate his mental state. “Lots of thoughts. You don’t have to answer that, love.”

Aziraphale slowly ran his fingers back into Crowley’s hair, almost petting him, like he was trying to comb his anxiety out.

“It’s alright, dearest. It’s an honest question… if not a little sudden.” He took a minute to put his book down on the side table before continuing. “I tried to speak to Her before the Armageddon-that-never-was. I reached the Metatron instead and— well, I’ve told you all this before, haven’t I?” He felt Crowley’s back muscles tense against his legs. There was no need to remind him about the bookshop fire. He coughed and continued. “Before that? I had never used the communication circle. There was no need! As you know, God listens to everyone, but we angels get a more… direct line. Or so we’ve been told. I haven’t heard Her Voice for thousands of years. All this to say… I don’t speak with her.”

Crowley shifted so he could make eye contact through furrowed brows. “Never? No direct orders? No ‘job-well-done’-s, nothing?” Aziraphale shook his head.

“All my assignments came from other angels, and even then, they don’t get their directions directly from God.”

“Wait, what?”

“The Divine Plan, remember? All assignments are derived from the original Plan. I am not exactly sure how the whole process works, but—” and here he grinned deviously “— I must confess, as soon as I heard none of the Archangels heard directly from the Big Boss either, I was satisfied.”

Crowley scoffed. “Naughty angel, that’s envy!”

“Maybe so. But imagine my frustration! The first few thousand years, I was just as pious in prayer as a religious human! I gave thanks, I asked guidance, I wished for wisdom… everything short of asking forgiveness, I would have said every type of prayer in every iteration possible… to no avail.” He sighed. “I eventually stopped. I figured She was too busy listening to human prayers or something of the sort.”

“It’s lonely.” Crowley said. “It’s like talking to a brick wall.”

“Yes, rather. Wait… Crowley please don’t tell me you…” the angel gasped when the demon nodded. “But! What if you had gotten hurt?”

“You think I would have spoken to Her if I wasn’t already at my lowest point, angel?”

The air felt heavy. They couldn’t bare to look at each other. Aziraphale was worrying his lip between his teeth, and Crowley had to remind himself to breathe.

“Do you ever wonder if God’s still there, Crowley?”

The angel’s question knocked the remaining air right out of him. Oh well. Not like he really had to breathe anyway.

“How you mean?”

“I mean no one has heard from her! I mean that She did nothing when Heaven and Hell started the Apocalypse! Crowley, everything could have ended! All of Her Creation was on the verge of destruction and She… She wasn’t there!” He was breathing rapidly now; his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were wet. Crowley slinked off his lap and into a kneeling position in front of him. He grasped his husband’s hands.

“Angel? Angel can you take a few deep breaths for me?” Aziraphale obliged, forcing his corporation to calm down. Crowley took a seat next to him. Aziraphale rested his head on Crowley’s shoulder.

“I could have lost you, my dear.” He whispered.

“I know, angel. I know.” Crowley cradled his head and stroked his curls. He rubbed the nape of his neck the way he knew the angel liked. “But we’re here now, yeah? Nothing can take that away from us.”

He didn’t say it but he didn’t have to; Aziraphale heard it loud and clear. _I’ll always answer you. I’ll always be there for you. You will never be alone again._

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Sorry this one's a bummer. Leave a "yikes" in the comments if you liked it anyway. 
> 
> "There's no plan, there's no race to be run,  
> I'll be your man, when you got love to get done."


End file.
